


10 Minutes

by GomorrahHillsides (Within_N_Without)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Hiding in Plain Sight, M/M, New York City, Sick Danny, secret keeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Within_N_Without/pseuds/GomorrahHillsides
Summary: Danny gets Sick with a capital S and breaks up with Steve before he can find out.His plan hinges on small changes making a world of difference.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You might be wondering, "But aren't you supposed to be working on Autocorrect?"   
> "Yes, yes, I should be. I will be. But gah...chapter 3 of this planned story is killing me with thrills. You'll have to forgive me for being side-tracked" 
> 
> At least, this should be a short story, so it won't be a very long tangent ;)   
> And yes, sorry, but no kids in this one. The premise just didn't work with schools and ex-wives to question.

When everything's been settled and a few weeks of planning have come to fruition, Danny makes the call. 

It's ass o'clock in the morning, when Steve's guaranteed to be at the gym, his phone in a locker. It's the only time Danny's sure the call will go to voicemail and that's what he wants. This call needs to be one-sided.

As the ringing ends and the automated secretary recites the monotone instructions for leaving a message, Danny's heart starts to hurt and, for once, he's sure it's not the disease. 

There's the beep. Why does it sound like a gunshot?

"Hi Steve, it's Danny. Yes, I realize this is cowardly. Not to mention, unfair to you, but yeah, today I'm going to be that guy. The guy who breaks up with you over voicemail – with zero explanation – and then just...disappears. Feel free to hate me.

"No, seriously, I'd rather you did. Once again, you're being abandoned by someone close to you. But Steve, I don't want you to take this to heart. It was nothing you did that prompted this. When next you meet someone you like, I want you to take the risk. Put your heart on the line. You're too fucking fearless to let the past stop you from being happy. 

"I'm sorry to be ending things like this, but whatever you may think of me, I want you to know I'm rooting for you. Fuck, make it a goal. You're good at completing those. Just decide that by the end of the year, you'll be over me and in love with somebody else, on your way to moving in together, into a bigger place on a better street with all the money from your promotion. 

"Good things are waiting for you, Steve. They can be yours all the sooner if you just let go. Don't look for me, Steve. We're over. Move on. Good luck, and goodbye." 

Danny hangs up, proud that his voice didn't break. It's too early to go into work, so he waits, already dressed, too dizzy to eat, his heart racing, prepared for the moment that – 

A fist bangs on a door out in the hall. 

"Danny, open up!" Steve shouts, fury embedded in every syllable. 

Danny flinches, slouching deeper into his couch cushions under the weight of his guilt. He can't picture Steve's face right now. He's never heard him so angry. 

When Danny doesn't answer, Steve resumes his banging and doesn't stop. 

Before the nutcase can resort to kicking the door in, Danny hears a shrill, somewhat muffled, voice shout back at Steve, "There's no one living here by that name. Go away right this instant, or I'm calling the police."

There's a pause where Steve probably checks the apartment number. "Hey, uh, who am I talking to right now? Because, I'm pretty sure Danny Williams lives here and you're not Danny, which means I'm the one who's going to be calling the police." 

Even though he's miserable – because of the pain in his ever-frail-ing body, and the daunting thoughts of the medications and procedures waiting in his future, and the loss he's subjecting Steve and himself to – Danny has to bite his fist to keep from laughing. This suddenly seems so absurd. 

His whole plan. It's ridiculous. 

He has no idea if it's going to work, but New York is such a huge city. He's banking on statistics. Steve and Danny cross paths because they work in the same company, share adjacent cubicles, live on the same bus route, and head to work at the same time. So, in theory, all he needs is to shift everything just the slightest bit and they just might never cross paths again. 

Like, his address. He's moved just across the hall. He's close enough to hear Steve's distress through the walls, but there's no reason for Steve to bang on this apartment door. 

At work, his transfer's been approved. Starting today, he'll be working from a cubicle across the street and just a few floors above where he used to work. He'll still be working at the same company, but Steve won't have any reason to look him up in the company directory to find his new office number and their old manager thinks he's quit, so when Steve inevitably questions the man, he'll only get misleading information.

To deal with the bus route problem, Danny knows of a bus that picks up at the stop closest to his apartment 10 minutes after the one he usually takes and it'll drop him off close enough to work that he'll be able to easily walk the remaining distance in five minutes. 

Just a few changes and Steve won't have to watch Danny slowly waste away. 

He'll be able to focus on his promotion rather than playing nursemaid. 

Danny knows it's a little cruel, but there's nothing Steve can do to help him. 

On the other hand, there's tremendous competition for the position he's aiming for within the company. He'll have to work late, go to more networking functions, and use his free time for market research. Their relationship was enough of a distraction, but Danny's health issues on top of that would mean the promotion going to someone else. 

Which, to Danny, is unacceptable. 

Their relationship is new. In the short-term, Danny knows that the stunt he's just pulled will distract Steve for a week or two, but eventually – if not right away – he'll use work as a distraction, pouring all his focus and energy into it as a way of coping with Danny's disappearance. He'll have a productive outlet for his negative feelings.

The alternative is possibly months of worrying about Danny's health. Of distractions, appointments, and a whole host of obligations Steve can't afford to be dealing with at this stage in his career. 

Danny tries not to regret his executive decision as he hacks mucus out of his airways and into a tissue. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three things I shall tell you:   
> \- First, sorry for lack of realism, but this is meant to be a quick story. The span of months covered in this chapter could've been thousands of words long, the product of long research and written in painstaking detail, but why prolong the pain? Also, nothing extra special would've happened within those sections. I decided not to tread a path well-traveled for more than the obligatory broad strokes.  
> \- Second, I don't remember anymore. Got distracted whilst writing the first thing. Maybe it's to say that the upcoming chapter is the whole reason I wrote this story? (Chapter 3, not upcoming in the sense of the below chapter)  
> \- Third, I've been listening to this song in a loop: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_MyUGq7pgs  
> What do I like about it? Everything. No idea what they're saying, who they are, and I haven't seen the movie but I definitely want to now.

The first few days, Danny skulks around, paranoid that he'll run into Steve around every corner, but nothing happens. 

Life goes on.

If Steve's still trying to contact him – a week, two weeks, a month later – Danny doesn't know about it, what with his new phone number and email accounts. 

They don't cross paths and for a long time Danny doesn't have the energy to spare for thinking about Steve. The constant headaches, nausea, bouts of vertigo and dizziness preoccupy him when he's at the office, or they keep him home altogether. Because he can't afford time off, Danny lays on his couch, laptop arranged over his knees, struggling not to fall asleep as he works from the discomfort of his apartment. 

On weekends or during extended lunches, he visits his doctor. The news isn't horrendous but neither is it all that optimistic. Most visits end with a change in prescription or a stricter diet. It's expensive and draining and so damn lonely. 

But he can't complain, since it's his own fault. When his family Skype-calls, he puts on a show, smiling, laughing, telling jokes. He's almost too carefree – so much so that his brother and sisters are all placing bets on what could be causing his newfound happiness.

They try to wheedle. 

"Is it a promotion?"

"You and Steve getting hitched?"

"Did you win the lottery?"

"Let me guess, you're pregnant."

Danny laughs along, vibrant on Skype through the magic of some clever makeup that he only knows how to apply because for the longest time it was the way Bridget would have him pay back the favors he owed her – by being her experimental canvas.

But eventually, as months pass, even the makeup can't cover up the dramatic weight loss or the dark circles under his eyes. At about the same time, Danny's laptop camera mysteriously stops working. 

Oh well, what can you do?

At least his efforts aren't fruitless.

Steve gets the promotion.

Danny knows because Steve's featured in the company newsletter. Also, with the promotion, Steve gets his own office with a view out onto the courtyard. It becomes Danny's favorite pastime to watch Steve from his viewpoint across the street and a few floors up. 

These days, his only source of adrenaline is the panicked thrill at the thought that Steve might unexpectedly look up one day and recognize him. Danny imagines that reunion a hundred different ways.

Steve never looks up when Danny's watching him. 

In the beginning, Steve looked as despondent as Danny felt, but with the passage of time and the arrival of New Hire Season, Steve visibly rallies. Danny starts to see him out in the courtyard, quite frequently accompanied by a pretty brunette. They spend their lunches with their heads close together, knees touching as they perch along the perimeter of the courtyard centerpiece statue. They look beautiful together, especially whenever Steve laughs at something the she says.

And it's not just at work that the two of them meet up. Danny happens to see them one day clocking out early, gym bags on their shoulders. So, they hang out. They're close. Danny does his damnedest to feel happy that Steve's moving on. 

That effort lasts a week before Danny says, fuck it. 

He doesn't have to be righteous. He's a person with feelings. There's no point denying that he's jealous. That it hurts to see Steve with someone else.

He's still convinced he did the right thing, but that doesn't mean he has to like how shitty the right thing was for him. Privately, in the safety of his own thoughts, he allows himself to be selfish. He imagines that she's a married temp helping Steve through his heartbreak without any romantic inclination towards him. 

The problem is that private thoughts have a tendency to spill outside their confines the stronger they are. The more he fantasizes about Steve, the greater his need for contact. 

It's not enough to stalk Steve on the internet. Danny takes to calling Steve at times he knows the man won't pick up, just so he can hear the inbox recording Steve's made. 

 He never leaves a message, though, which is probably why, one day, his phone lights up with Steve's name. His heart double times and his hands shake as he lets the call go to voicemail. It feels like the greatest gift when Steve leaves a message. He plays it over and over again, savoring Steve's voice, even if his tone is confused and a bit miffed.

"Hello, this is Steve McGarrett. It seems I've missed multiple calls from this number. If I don't answer any subsequent calls you might make,  _please leave a message_  and I will get back to you forthwith." 

The last word in particular makes Danny smile, because it's one of the words that only entered Steve's vocabulary after he met (and started teasing) Danny.

Six weeks later, Danny gets good news. He's finally on the mend. His doctor is confident that there should be marked improvement in terms of the symptoms. Danny still looks like death and he'll need to continue his prescriptions for a long while yet, but literal death is, for the moment, off the table. 

The news is bittersweet though, because fantasizing was all well and good, but now he doesn't have any excuse to avoid Steve. He's not in dire straits and Steve has his promotion. Now is the time to face the hideous truth – that approaching Steve now might yield nothing. It's doubtful that Steve will forgive him for this. Resuscitating their friendship might not be possible, let alone anything else. There's still a wisp of hope in his heart, though – he's just needs to gather his courage and reach out. After all, what does he have to lose? 

But courage is a fragile thing, and since Danny's been sick, his supply of it has been rather short. The small amount he'd managed to scrounge up disappears as soon as he spots Steve kissing the pretty brunette one day, out in the courtyard. Her legs are in his lap and he's laughing in between kisses as he tries not to drop his sandwich. 

This whole thing started because Danny thought it was too selfish to drag Steve into his life-or-death problems. In this instance too, Danny knows it would be too selfish to walk back into Steve's life when he appears to finally be happy again. 

He's gone to such effort to create this distance, to remove Steve from self-imposed responsibilities. And, just because he's in remission doesn't mean Danny's cured. This whole scenario might have to be repeated a year from now.

It's with a devastated heart that Danny begins slowly letting go of Steve. 

He stops following his social media accounts, he doesn't snag a couch close to the windows so that he can work and see into Steve's office at the same time, and he stops calling Steve's cell phone. And though he keeps the photos they took together and the shirt Steve left behind and the voicemail on his phone, Danny packs it all away and doesn't let himself look at any of it. Maybe it's not a complete goodbye, but it's as much of one as his heart can stand at the moment. 


	3. Chapter 3

From day to day not much changes. 

Danny feels better some days, almost like he was never sick. Then others, he can barely get out of bed. 

He gets a raise at work and has to scramble for an excuse to offer Corporate for why he doesn't want to be included in the newsletter. 

When the holidays roll around, Danny lies to his family – citing harsh deadlines and threat of layoffs as the reason he can't come home for Christmas. When Matt offers to drop in on him over the New Year's weekend he's going to be in the city, Danny doesn't have to feign that he's down with a cold to keep his brother from visiting, since his nose is stuffed up and he's buried in tissues.

Seasons have passed since all this began. Flowers have bloomed, then withered. Snow banks grew along the sidewalks, turned dirty, then melted. And now a cold spring is trying to break through winter's grip. 

It's been over a year since he broke up with Steve, and with all that time, he's become complacent. He doesn't expect to run into Steve anymore. The habit to bypass Steve's haunts is ingrained by now and the schedule that allows him to be 10 minutes behind Steven on mass transit routes feels natural. 

So, when a man sits down next to him, Danny ignores him like he does everyone else. For most of the bus ride they don't look at each other, because it's too much effort to care who's sitting next to you on the bus Monday morning. 

But then the man sighs. 

It's a light exhale of breath that just so happens to fall in between grunts of the bus's engine so that Danny hears it clearly. 

Steve. 

It's gotta be. 

He shifts his head and looks at the man out of the corner of his eye, heart squeezing tight. 

Steve looks tired and this isn't his usual bus. He must be running late. The double-breasted trench coat he's wearing is one Danny's never seen. It's much more formal than the sport coat Danny's used to seeing him in. It looks odd and out of place on Steve. Immediately, Danny suspects it must be from his new girlfriend. Steve's the kind of guy who'll wear whatever you gift him with.

Dragging the collar of his coat up to better cover his face, Danny surreptitiously watches him the rest of the trip, carefully memorizing Steve again and taking in the changes. 

The longer hair that curls at the base of his neck, the dried, cracked skin of his knuckles when he takes off his gloves, the darker shadow of facial hair that speaks of a morning overslept.

Finally, as the bus approaches the stop that's a block away from Triton Square and the twin office buildings of Jenkins Incorporated, Steve wearily stands and moves closer to the doors. 

The bus breaks. Steve gets off. And Danny aches.

He twists in his seat, even rising to a knee, to watch Steve's progress towards the crosswalk. Steve doesn't make it before the walk sign turns red. 

Danny's still absent enough that he doesn't duck down in preparation of the bus turning the same corner Steve's standing at. He just stares out the window, transfixed. For a brief moment, Steve's right on the other side of the glass panel, so close that Danny's sure, if they both were to reach out their arms and lean in, their fingertips would brush. Huh...this could be the closest he'll ever physically be to Steve for the rest of forever. 

But then, Steve looks up. 

Their eyes meet and, for a second, Steve doesn't recognize him. 

It's understandable. His face is thinner, his shoulders and arms narrower without the overlay of muscle, and the skullcap covers his thinned blonde hair. Even his eyebrows are in poor shape. 

It's still him, though. 

The window slides out of alignment, but Steve's eyes follow Danny and after a beat, realization dawns. Wide-eyed, Steve's jaw drops. Danny's not sure but, as Steve's lips move, he imagines he can hear the ghost of his name carried over the sounds of horns honking, passenger conversations, and engine noises. 

Then the bus completes the turn and continues to drive down the street. 

It's too late to pretend to be someone else. To avoid Steve's notice. So, selfishly, Danny cranes to keep Steve in sight. Danny's watching when his former best friend snaps back to reality.

Lunatic that he is, Steve launches into the fucking street and starts to chase the bus without the hindrance of pedestrian traffic.

A bus on a highway, or even an endless country road, would be able to speed away, off into the distance, leaving even the superbly fit McGarrett in the dust. But in a city?

Steve's a hundred times more likely to get plowed over by a hostile driver than losing the slow, creaky bus as it makes glacial progress through rush hour bottlenecks. In no time, the bus is paused at its next stop, and Steve just rushes on, not even winded. 

Reclaiming the seat beside Danny, Steve doesn't hesitate, despite the break up and the sheer length of time since they last saw each other. Just cups Danny's face with shaking hands, smoothing thumbs over hollowed cheeks, tracing the bags under Danny's eyes, as his hungry gaze devours every detail. "Goddammit, Danny, what were you thinking?" He says.

"You shouldn't just assume," Danny warns. "I broke up with you in one of the worst ways possible. What makes you think I want to –"

"Shut up," Steve says. "I don't want to hear more lies. The breakup never made sense until this moment. You're such an idiot, Danny." Steve pulls him closer, long arms easily wrapping him in a tight embrace. "No wonder you chose voicemail. No way could you have gone through with it if it was face-to-face. And no way would I have fallen for whatever bullshit reasons you would've tried to explain why you were pushing me away."  

Danny knows he's beat. Particularly since no part of him honestly wants to fight with Steve. Damn, he forgot how warm these hugs were. So encompassing – especially given that he's lost his muscular build. 

The bus stops as close to the hospital as it's going to get.

"I have to get off here," Danny says with regret. It feels like the bus is a safe haven. As soon as he steps off, the world will surely reset and he and Steve will be separated once more, living parallel lives 10-minutes apart.

Except Steve gets off the bus with him and starts walking in the direction of the looming medical center. He's put the pieces together so fast, which only serves to confirm to Danny that the only way he could've shaken Steve was the way he did it. 

Before they enter the hospital, Steve pulls out his phone and taps one of his contacts. "Hi Sam, I'm not coming in today...yeah, I need to you to move that meeting and tell the team that I expect the status board to be updated...right, send me a photo of it at the end of the day...yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow, Sam." 

After the he hangs up, Steve reaches out and catches Danny's hand, holding tight. 

"You really should go to work," Danny says. "I wouldn't normally be here on a week day, but the doctor was booked solid, so there was no choice. It's just going to be a lot of waiting around for a short appointment and then I was planning to work from home."

"I've got my laptop," Steve says, stubborn and fierce. There's tension in every line of his body. Like he expects Danny to disappear and once again become unfindable in a city of millions if he loses sight of him for even a moment. 

With a sigh, Danny gives in to what they both want and leads him into the hospital, shoulders brushing, arms linked, and fingers intertwined. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did this take so long, you might ask? Well, let me tell you, I'm just as mystified. I blame Jack and the God of War series. Yes, I did actually sink my time into watching that. For anyone who knows what I'm talking about, you also probably know just how much time that took O_O  
> What about Triple A, you might also ask? I've got a roadmap and part of the next chapter written.   
> Till we meet again in another chapter!

After his appointment, Danny finds Steve in the waiting room, making everyone nervous with his fierce pacing.

When he looks up at Danny's entrance, his eyes are fearful.

Shaking his head, Danny says, "Good thing I didn't tell you. No doubt that promotion would've gone to someone else."

Steve's eyes narrow and he stalks forward, close enough to hook an arm around Danny's waist and pull him into an embrace. The tension in his frame is a clear sign he's pissed, but they're in public and, honestly, everyone in the waiting room is staring, albeit surreptitiously.

Still, that's never really stopped Steve and it doesn't stop him now. Thankfully, he manages to be a little bit discreet, whispering harshly in his ear, "Do you really think I would've given two shits about that promotion if I'd known you were sick?"

"That's the whole point, Steven. You would've dropped anything and everything to be there and I didn't want that, especially back then, when it wasn't very clear...what the outcome would be." 

The admission seems to physically pain Steve.

"No, listen," Danny says, craning his neck to reach his ear.

Thank Christ for the fussy infant in the corner and the bored man playing with the beads-on-roller-coaster-shaped-wires, else there'd be no way to have this conversation while the lady at the counter calculates Danny's insurance deductible. 

"I had to decide what would hurt more. Spending a year down in the trenches with me, living through every miserable, agonizing moment, only to have me possibly die at the end? Or hating me for breaking up with you and effectively disappearing from your life. Can you honestly say I chose wrong?"

Steve's practically vibrating with suppressed anger. "You missed a scenario," he grits out.

"Oh?"

"What would've hurt the most would've been the phone call from your mom or your brother or your sister to tell me that you'd died, asking me if I was going to attend the funeral, and then the realization that you did it for me even though the last thing I would've wanted would've been to lose the time we had left."

Shit...he's right.

Danny doesn't know what to say to that, so it's a relief when the secretary waves him over to pay the bill.

The silence lasts till they're outside, walking towards the bus stop.

"So...you coming home with me, or heading back to the office?" 

"What do you think?" Steve asks. His expression conveys just how ridiculous he thinks the question is. 

Shrugging, Danny asks, "Don't you have a girlfriend now? The brunette from the courtyard? Won't she mind if you spend the day catching up with me?" 

"Wha –  No, Cath and I have a causal relationship. I'm her rebound, and she's mine. There's no commitment between us. But how did you know I was hooking up with her? It's not like I've posted any photos. Do you often pass by Triton Square or something?"

Danny winces. "Actually, I'm still at Jenkins. Just, in the other building and a few floors up. I'm also still in sales, just on a different product team." 

Steve freezes on the sidewalk. "You...you've been just across the street this whole time?" 

"Um...yes, actually –"

The arrival of the bus mercifully interrupts their conversation. Or maybe not so mercifully –

"Wait, is this the right one?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Do you live on the same route you used to?!"

Danny nods, stepping quickly out of the way as Steve stomps onto the bus.

For much of the ride, Steve's epically pissed, which means they don't talk. Any attempt Danny makes to say something is glared into silence. It's not until they're two stops away from disembarking that a look of realization crosses Steve's face.

Danny doesn't have to expend much effort trying to figure out what's going on in his head.

As soon as they get off the bus, Steve pulls him into a hug.

"What's the occasion?" Danny asks, nervously clutching onto Steve's weird trench coat. It would serve him right if Steve washed his hands of him here and now. Poetic justice, some would probably call it.

"I thought you effortlessly cut me out of your life, but you work across the street, ride the same bus – it's like you had just enough strength of will to carry out this stupid plan, but you couldn't make yourself go any further than you had to. You could've moved to Jersey or taken a job across town, but instead you put yourself close enough to me, that if I'd ever been late to work, I would've run into you. If I'd ever looked up while you were watching me, I'd have seen you. You couldn't let go of me completely," Steve says with such satisfaction that he's smiling.

Danny's brow furrows in confusion. "Are you kidding? Of course, it wasn't easy."

For the rest of the way home, Steve remains close enough that half his torso's pressed to Danny's and they have to walk in perfect lockstep or risk tripping each other. It must look ridiculous, especially with Steve opportunistically nuzzling into the crook of Danny's shoulder while Danny blinks away tears. 

He was sure he'd never have this again for a dozen different reasons. 

Because Steve had moved on.

Because Steve's forgiveness wouldn't stretch this far.

Because of random life events like promotions or job changes or marriage taking Steve out of reach. 

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, but his attention shifts to the building they're standing in front of, while Danny fishes out a key. "No way. I tried your apartment a few times. No matter what time I came, an old cranky lady answered the door." 

"I moved across the hall."

Surprisingly, Steve huffs a laugh. "How many times did you hear me pounding on that poor woman's door, demanding to see you?"

"Enough that I'm surprised she didn't have you arrested. Back then, I was almost always home, working from my couch. Doesn't that...doesn't that piss you off?" Danny asks, hesitantly. He's not sure he wants to hear the answer. 

As they walk through the lobby and onto the elevator, Steve takes deep, relaxing breaths. It's not until they're in Danny's apartment that he says, grudgingly, "I don't want to be pissed about things that can't be changed. If I'm going to be pissed, I'd rather it be about things we have the power to do something about." 

"Such as?"

"Where do we go from here?" Steve asks, tangentially. 

"Wherever you want to go from here," Danny says, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

"Are you going to do this to me again?"

With a sigh, Danny admits, "I hate the thought of you agonizing over my health, but you're an adult. I had no right to take the decision away from you. So, no. I won't do it again."

Steve's relief is tangible.

It's amazing that, despite everything, his trust in Danny hasn't been utterly annihilated. He's still willing to take him at his word. 

After Danny makes tea, they sit together on the couch, and not on opposite ends in a reflection of all that should be separating them, but right up against each other, sharing the middle cushion like they'd always done.

"In all seriousness," Danny starts, "where  _do_ we go from here? I mean, are we working back to being friends or – "

Steve interrupts him with a chaste kiss and only then leans back and asks, "This okay?"

"If you're going to ask for permission, it should go before you do the thing. That said, I'm not the injured party. I'm game for whatever pace you set." 

Steve's stare is, of course, challenging. "Really? I get to set the pace? Then, let's move in together." 

"It's been over a year. Are you sure you want to start right where we left off? We might not be the same people we were back then. And did we really know each other enough in the first place to take this kind of step? I mean, did you suspect I'd be the kind of person to abandon you?" 

"Is this you backing out?"

"No, I'll go with whatever you want, because I miss you and unless you skip ahead to getting hitched then I'm on board. That said, I don't want to do something that will sabotage us. Moving in means signing a lease together and subletting our apartments. It won't be a quick fix if this all falls apart as quickly as you want to put it together." 

"You don't believe in us?" Steve asks. 

"Of course, I do, which is why, if this is a serious offer you're putting on the table, I'm in. But I'm not the one who spent months with questions that had no answers, with feeling stuck in a pressure cooker with no release valve. If this is a test, or a whim, I think you should reconsider where you want to restart from. If we have to work on being friends first – "

"We don't," Steve says, definitively. 

"You sure, because –"

"I love you, Danny. I was ready to start our life together years ago. It's always been me trying to convince you on taking the next step. Trust me, I have no doubts about moving in together."

"Aren't you concerned that something might have changed? That maybe we're different people? And how is it that you don't resent me?" 

Verbal communication has never been Steve's strong suite. He's visibly struggling to articulate his feelings. For a solid twenty seconds, he just gestures in frustration, starting to say something and then stopping before the first word gets out. 

Finally, he settles for, "I don't have a convincing argument. That's always been your forte and it's why we were always such a great team in the office."

Danny's not sure where Steve's' going with his comment. Sure, they used to come up with innovative ideas together before splitting off – Danny to sell the idea to corporate and market it to their target audience while Steve went off to lead the product development team. "You're going to have to be more specific, babe." 

"I'm trying to say that I can't sell you on this idea. Especially since, for any argument I might make, that negative space in your head that resulted in our breakup could probably come up with an equal – if not better – argument for the opposite. All I can tell you is that this isn't a whim or a test, and I don't resent you. I'm still angry, but I know how your head works. I know, as much as I might hate what you did, that you thought it was the best thing for me. I don't think you've ever really believed me when I said you were the most important part of my life, so I can see how, to you, a promotion might seem like a better course to sail. But believe me, it wasn't. I would never have chosen it over helping you face whatever challenges you've been dealing with. And that's the extent of my powers of persuasion. For everything else, you'll have to invest a little faith." 

"I do have faith," Danny says, leaning into the crook of Steve's shoulder. "I admit, in the beginning I didn't think we could work, but you proved me wrong. I'm sorry for what I put you through. If it helps at all, I made a lot of stupid decisions this past year and I pushed everyone away, kept everyone in the dark. It had nothing to do with the strength of our relationship or whether I thought we could survive the stress of a deadly disease." He can feel Steve's stare as the man gapes at him.

"Ev- _every_ one? You mean people at the office or Facebook friends, right? Because you must've told your parents..." He trails off, reading the answer from Danny's body language. "Geezus Danny, what were you thinking? You went through all of it alone?"

"Yeah, it wasn't my most clear-headed decision. But it just...felt wrong to tell people. I'm not the guy who gets sick. I can take care of myself and everyone around me. I'm the guy who helps carry heavy burdens. When I was at my sickest, when it finally got to the point where I really could've used some help, I still couldn't make myself ask for it."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve says, "You and I are going to work on that, Danny. That's no way to go through life. Especially when I'm pretty sure you're going to catch hell from your small country of relatives who all would've wanted to be there to support you. No one you know would've ever approved of this." 

"You're right," Danny sighs. "That is going to be a majorly painful conversation."

"Yup, but at least you're going to have me as backup," Steve says, nosing at his hair. 

"You're willing to stand against the tide of well-meaning, loud-mouthed Williams's as they crash against us with waves of questions?" 

"I'll be right there with you when they start sea-foaming at the mouth with curse words." 

That deserves a kiss. 

So, Danny leans in hesitantly, not sure whether he should aim for a peck on the cheek or if it's alright to catch the corner of Steve's mouth. 

He hesitates for so long that Steve steals the decision away with a proper kiss. 

And, God, but it's been so long. One kiss just isn't enough. 

Neither are two or three. 

And then, that press and slide of lips becomes not enough. 

Massaging the hinge of Danny's jaw, Steve coaxes his mouth open and licks inside. 

Soon, the couch isn't enough space and sitting becomes laying down, tangled together in Danny's bed. For all the time that's passed, little feels like it's changed. Maybe Steve's a bit more careful and Danny's a lot easier to lift, and they've got a lot of catching up to do, but for the first time in what seems like forever, Danny feels...healthy. Clear, happy, relaxed, invigorated. 

But that's not really news. He'd always known that the moments he spent with Steve made him feel most alive.

The next morning, just as they're about to diverge towards their separate buildings, Steve catches Danny's hand. "Wait, what's your phone number."

"Oh...yeah, right. You should have that." With an internal wince, Danny sends a text message to Steve from his phone. 

"Your job, your apartment, your phone number...I can't believe how much you changed just to get away with all this," Steve mutters as he goes to add Danny to his contacts list. A second later, his jaw drops. "This number..." Catching Danny's eyes, Steve stares at him. "You were the person who kept calling me."

"Guilty." 

Tilting his head, Steve says, "Call me sometime today, but this time, leave a message." 

Danny laughs. "You want a recording of my voice that bad?" 

Cocking an eyebrow, Steve counters, "Isn't that the reason you used to call?"

"Also guilty," Danny admits. 

Grinning, Steve says, "Have a good day," and kisses his temple. It feels like a promise. 

Danny kisses Steve's cheek, hoping the big lunk understands that the promise goes both ways. When things get tough in the future, as they inevitably will, Danny won't let go. 


End file.
